


Dracarys

by CallicoKitten



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen, Memory Alteration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 03:29:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallicoKitten/pseuds/CallicoKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He turns towards Jorah momentarily, there's a burn scar on his forehead and his elegant features speak of noble blood. He reminds Jorah of someone long dead and buried and quite impossible but then Jorah looks closer and there's no mistaking those violet eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dracarys

**Author's Note:**

> Idk, I drabbled this on my old tumblr, thought I'd fix it up a bit.

When Ser Jorah first catches sight of the boy in the marketplace he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. The cities around Volantis are by no means wealthy, it is common to see people in rags, people with wounds. This boy is no different, he's tall, lithe perhaps around twenty, his hair is shorn short, from what Jorah can tell its a sooty black colour. His clothes too, are fire damaged, smokey and dark and singed. He turns towards Jorah momentarily, there's a burn scar on his forehead and his elegant features speak of noble blood. He reminds Jorah of someone long dead and buried and quite impossible but then Jorah looks closer and there's no mistaking those violet eyes.

It could be anyone, he tells himself, a bastard son of some long forgotten Targaryen prince, a distant relation, anyone. But then the boy brushes past something that catches on his jerkin sleeve and he shakes it off with a familiar look if disgust, it's him. It has to be. 

For a moment he just stares, stares until the boy catches him, twists his lip into something like a nervous smile. "Ser?" He asks, his voice rough. 

Jorah jumps a little, he never noticed how similar Viserys looked like his sister. "What's your name, boy?" 

The boy looks away, smiles tiredly. "You know it's strange Ser, but I can't recall it." He looks up and his eyes are clear - no madness, no grief, no anger. Jorah wonders what Viserys would think if he could see himself now, he'd recoil no doubt from this shabby boy, so calm and trusting. 

"You speak the common tongue, are you from Westeros?"

The boy smiles again, runs a hand through his singed hair, "Again, I'm sorry Ser. I'm not entirely sure. I suppose I may have been once."

Jorah frowns, "What do you remember?"

"Walking," he says. "That's where they found me, you know, wandering. They said I was half-mad, raving." 

Jorah eyes the burn scars, wonders if he remembers dying. "Who found you?"

"Does it matter?" The boy frowns as he searches Jorah's face. Something flutters to the surface, it's not quite recognition but its something. "Do I know you, Ser?" He asks quietly. "Did I know you before?" 

Jorah bites his lip. He could just walk away, leave this shadow of man to his business, not burden him with memories of deeds and deaths and expectations. But he thinks of how valuable he could be, the lost Targaryen prince come back to life. It's only a matter of time before someone else finds him and if its Varys or Little Finger... He tells himself that's why he nods and smiles a little at the boy. He tells himself he's not been thinking about an opportunity to get back in Dany's good graces but oh, he can't stop thinking about her. 

She wouldn't turn her away if he brought her Viserys, would she? Maybe she'd thank him for reuniting them, maybe she'd view her brother as a threat and thank him all the same.

"I do," Jorah says. "I did. I know your sister."

"I have a sister?" his expression brightens. 

"I could take you to her, if you'd like."

The boy nods eagerly. "Is it far?"

"Not so far."

The boy's grin falters, "I haven't any money though, Ser."

Jorah gives him his best reassuring smile, "Your sister is a dear friend of mine, it would be my honour to do this for her, and for you. We can leave tomorrow, if that's convenient for you." It won't take them long to get to Meereen from Selhorys, perhaps a few weeks if they travel carefully, less if they don't. "Do you have a name?" Jorah asks, "You must be called something."

He smiles wistfully. "The woman who found me said I looked like i had bern savaged by a small dragon. She called me Dracarys. It means-"

"Dragon fire in Old Valyrian," Jorah finishes for him.

He-for Jorah isn't sure he can refer to Viserys, who was little more than a shadow of a snake, as dragon fire- smiles and nods, "And you, good Ser? What is your name?"

"Ser Jorah Mormont."

Something flickers across the boys eyes, he turns away to stare back into the market crowds smiling to himself. "Have you heard the stories, Ser Jorah? They say there is a queen in Meereen with dragons. Real dragons. It's like something out of the old tales."

Jorah can only nod.


End file.
